It was confusion at first, for it seemed the walls suddenly grew arms and the ability to speak as Marisol was yanked into the shadows. Fear was next, the walls had not become anthropomorphic, no arms nor mouths carved of stone, the hands that manoeuvred were of hardened flesh, thick callouses scratching supple skin. The dread was breath-taking, and Marisol's body shook under the hair-raising touch.

"Try scream and I break that pretty neck of yours."

The voice was deep, older, and the words were rinsed in alcohol - stale yet potent.

In spite of the command, Marisol instinctively pushed out any noise she could, although what was heard, or not heard, was little more than a whimper, strained and feeble. The hand clenched further, not only robbing her of her breath, but her dignity too. Marisol felt disgusted but not could attribute where that feeling lay, was it directed at the man behind her? Herself? This entire situation?

"I'm not going back to that goddam jail, do you know what they do there with people like us? The people they see as expendable? We're slaves. We're used, we're abused and then we're sent back to that despicable underground," The man's words were quiet, careful not to alert anyone else of his presence. "Can't you just take pity on someone who wants a better life? You have no idea how terrible it is down there...my wife and my children they - no one survives there, no one."

Marisol had never felt an inner conflict like this, her chest tightened out of sympathy and fear for his hand remained in place, the short, grimy, nails of his stubby fingers scraping on the sides of her throat. She wished she could turn around and shout out that she understood him and wanted to help him, but another part of her wished his grip would loosen so she could kick him to the ground and be useful as a scout.

"You remind me so much of her – my daughter. She was only fourteen...she could barely walk, she spent her last six months bedbound, crying day in and day out...and it's because of people like you, you all stand up as heroes, the brave who keep everyone safe, but what about us? When are you going to care about us!" The man was in the thick of his emotions now, not caring how loud he became. Marisol hoped his voice carried to where the other scouts were.

Her neck was already warm from where the man spoke into it, but soon began to feel clammy, and Marisol could only assume he had been brought to tears over his lamenting. His grip on her waist strengthened further than she believed possible, bruises would be clear in the coming hours.

She felt as though she was succumbing to helplessness. Was this how Clay felt in his last moments? With his legs inside the titan's mouth, did he feel the teeth readying to masticate and feel absolute existential dread? Did he go gently, without as much as a fight? Did he even have a chance to fight?

This, however, was no titan, this was a weak man at the end of his tether, far weaker than anyone Marisol had encountered earlier today. Yet, there is no ease in defying a weak man when you, yourself are even weaker. Marisol felt pathetic, she felt as though she could not do anything without everything going horribly wrong. It may have been the terror that at any moment this man could suffocate her with his already extremely tense hand, but her emotions and self-deprecation were skyrocketing with each passing second.

Levi had brought Marisol here to prove herself and right now she felt like a failure. She could picture it, Levi would walk over to her dead body with a sarcastic laugh, grumbling over how she was not worth her salt.

Steadying her mind back to the present, Marisol realised she needed to at try pry her way out. Through silent screams and clawing at the man's arm with only one hand, as her other was still rife with pain from the earlier stabbing, she protested all she could. Her efforts, however, were in vain as she began to feel dazed with the lack of oxygen; it was of no use to fight back, the temptation of passing out was a rather desirable escape.

The man's heaving cries behind her sharply halted, leaving Marisol unsettled. Their bodies were plastered together at this point, not a single gap remaining between them; they could feel all of each other.

"What's this?" The whispered question was left suspended in the air. Immediately, she knew what he was referring to, but Marisol could not have answered even if she had wanted to.

Slowly he dropped his contact with her neck. Marisol immediately hacked coughs out, filling her lungs with all the air she had lost. Her head was spinning, and she hyperventilated barely hearing the amusement in the man's voice as he spoke again.

"You sweet, sweet thing, maybe you aren't that bad, making yourself so useful for me." his once heart-breaking tone that Marisol almost felt sympathy for, became nauseatingly patronizing and that very sympathy flew out the window.

Marisol wished it were Captain Levi who was uttering these words with reverence, but she could not indulge in that fantasy, instead she focused her senses on the hand now sliding across her hip and diving into her back pocket.

The knife.

Her heartbeat was loud and rapid, strong enough that she was sure the man could feel it too with their close contact. She needed to act quick, she needed to get someone, anyone, to help her.

Through a strained voice Marisol used all her might to shout as loud as possible, "Lev-"

"It looks like all these rooms are clear here Captain," Petra shouted from down the hall as the Special Operations squad spread out checking each of the rooms on the second floor.

Levi simply nodded his head as he looked around the chamber he was inspecting.

"Alright but these rooms are still filthy, I can't even walk in without wanting to throw up." Levi visibly grimaced at the complete disarray of the rooms he had seen. Sheets messy and stiff, dust all over, dishes teeming with bugs. He had not been sent here with the instructions to clean but it would be over his dead body that this obscene environment would remain after they had left.

Lost in thought, he walked down the passageway towards a large window that overlooked the mountains. Arms crossed; he huffed out any tension that remained. Despite having full confidence in himself and his squad, that close encounter was more than enough to leave him perturbed.

Yet was his day really ruined?

There was one pleasant surprise, a detail that struck Levi as most unexpected: Marisol handling her own out there and wielding that knife as good as anyone he had ever seen. There was a look of determination, and her grip was that of someone doing this for the millionth time.

It became painfully obvious in that moment, but Marisol was mystifying in Levi's eyes. A young, well-to-do girl from the capital city, appearing as delicate and gentle as a feather, then all of a sudden, fighting with that fervour the compatriots of his youth displayed. Levi allowed himself to break a smile over his thoughts, in Marisol's savagery there was a subtle allure, the type of allure a suitor would discover through a giggle or a flirtatious gaze. Levi was sheepish, to say the least, that he was so held up on how attractive Marisol was when she let go of her inhibitions in favour of being a renegade. Perhaps, Levi thought to himself, he should not have been so judgemental of the young girl, she clearly knew what she was doing or at least appeared so.

Definitely some depth there, Levi thought.

He could not lie to himself and say that this was the first time he thought of the young woman in this light, she had been playing at his mind constantly as of late.

It started that evening, standing at Marisol's door. Levi could finally understand the appreciation people had for art, as she, in that ethereal white dress, appeared as a deity, painted with precise and vibrant brushstrokes. Wherever his mind wandered, she appeared, and as frustrating as it became, Levi thanked his brain for permanently etching that image into his psyche.

If left unchecked, Levi's infatuation would only have gotten worse and so he did as he had always done, he reverted back to his sarcastic and offish self. He spoke callously and unsympathetically to Marisol, choosing to create faults in her that would suppress his emotions. However, the dejection he saw in her eyes when he appeared cold in light of her plight was upsetting. If it were not for the boundaries, he had forced on himself in his captain duties, he would have tried with every romantically inept bone in his body to comfort and hold and-

Just then, a muffled shriek interrupted Levi's stream of consciousness.

"What was that?" Levi's eyes were wide as he turned from where he stood to face the scouts. Everyone held the same shocked look of confusion, but it was at that moment when Levi felt his stomach sink as he looked around at the scouts before him and noticed something was amiss.

"Where's Managold?"

The girl who was just before him in his daydream was nowhere to be seen. In his mind, the white dress was staining red.

"She was walking with us when we came upstairs…I'm sure of it." Petra answered but wavered with uncertainty as she looked from side to side, encouraging a confirmation from Oluo and Gunther, but none came.

Levi pushed past the scouts standing in his way as he paced down the corridor, "Oi, Managold!"

No response. Shit.

Ignoring the offers of assistance from his team, Levi felt as though he moved with tunnel vision, his sights set on finding Marisol. Swiftly he made his way down the stairs as he continued to shout out, "Marisol!" in hopes of a response only for none to come his way.

His heart was beating, he looked through every door and came out empty-handed. All of the men they fought, already removed from the castle and the only voice that could be heard outside was that of Eld. Perhaps Marisol went to assist him, Levi thought, as his legs carried him towards the door with a hastening pace.

Then there was a sob.

A pained and muffled sob, so faint that Levi almost believed his brain had fabricated it. Turning sharply on his heels, he walked towards the staircase where the sound was heard. Despite it being midday, the staircase in the middle of the foyer shielded the space behind it from any source of light. The shadows held the depth of centuries gone by in darkness. However, today, there was a sunspot within it: Marisol Managold.

He could barely make out either of them but could tell by the sheer difference in size, as well as the compromised position, where Marisol stood. He could see an object being pressed against Marisol's chin, tilting her head upwards. Although Levi could not make out whether that object was a knife or piece of broken glass, the small gasps and body tremors that Marisol displayed were enough to make him seethe.

"If you know what's good for you, you're going to put her down and get the fuck out of here." Levi was stern, painting the room with a new source of tension.

"Ah, but where's the fun in that? Come on Levi, let me play king of the castle for just a bit longer, not all of us get this opportunity handed on a silver platter." The older man spoke in a sarcastic whine that only grated Levi's nerves further.

It wasn't a shock that a man of this calibre knew of him, Levi was well-known in the underground amongst the various gangs and petty criminals. He had built a reputation for his vicious violence, sparing no one in the process of achieving a goal he had in mind. It had been years since he left, and opinion had changed significantly. The once revered streetfighter who was out for blood against those in power became the very thing he publicly defied, upon taking the opportunity from Erwin's so-called 'silver platter.' Today, Levi's name circulated like blood through a recently deceased body; in the underground he was old and dying news as far anyone was concerned.

"Tell me, you piece of shit, what's killing her going to achieve?" The man was silent in response, only intensifying the grip over Marisol's stomach. Levi took a step forward as he continued, "let go of her and let's settle this like men, one on one. If I win, you're out of here before a plea can leave those filthy lips of yours, and if you win," Levi let his sarcasm overtake him, "well, that would be an impossible feat, so I guess you can be that fucking king and pick up some women using the line that you beat my ass."

The war of attrition intensified, with Marisol acting as the only buffer against an all-out testosterone and ego war. The man's blood boiled at Levi's smugness and his grip on the knife against Marisol's neck intensified to the point of shaking, his white knuckles glowing in the darkness.

"Sit there and look pretty for me, I'll deal with him first and then move on to you next." His breath was hot against Marisol's ear, and she flinched at the proximity of the whispered words, words laced with debauchery.

The placidity of his tone contrasted the ominous words, but the threat was clear as he harshly pushed Marisol away from him. She ungracefully thudded to the ground, landing directly on her gashed arm, and writhed in pain but could care less, grateful to be out of his hold.

Marisol felt useless sitting on the ground as she watched the man step out of the shadows, beginning to close the distance between himself and Levi. She knew at that moment she would cause more harm than good by interfering and resigned herself to crawling against a nearby wall, discomfort worming its way through her body.

The scruffy man widened his stance and held his fists near his face, the whitened fist pointing the blade in Levi's direction. Levi took this as an invitation to step daringly close, a move that would have had any other person labelled masochistic for staring down a sharp blade without an ounce of fear. However, Levi knew exactly what he was doing at all times, was in control of every situation he faced: this was simply another day at the office for him.

Levi stood his ground, eyes unwavering as he baited the man to take a stab or swing, knowing he could use that as an opportunity to move in.

And, hook, line, and sinker, he was spurred on.

All it took was one feeble attempt at stabbing his neck for Levi to fight back. Levi jumped out of the way and instantly threw a fist. The loud punch echoed when he hit the man straight in the eye. The man released an agonising moan and string of curses.

The knife was still held dangerously close to Levi's body, and so Levi decided to use an old technique from his street fighting days to take complete control. Taking his arm, Levi gripped the man's hand in place. Pulling the arm flush against him, Levi twisted it backwards while the man's screaming only intensified.

Crack!

The noise of the breaking bone was gruesome, yet Levi never missed a beat. He forced the man to the ground and straddled him as punches flowed. Jabs, blood, grunts consumed the tight area underneath the staircase.

The man soon found some reprise when Levi took a minute to flick the blood off his now stained hand.

"Pl...please, I haven't…" The man trailed off as tears rolled down his wrecked face, brain spinning from the continuous assault and words jumbled as he spoke, "I haven't done anything…how can you be so cruel?"

Levi clicked his tongue as he eyed the man with disgust, "You're a piece of shit and got what you deserved after threatening that young girl's life," Levi roughly grabbed the man's chin, tilted his head back and forced him through swelling eyes to look at Marisol cowering in the corner, "Now fucking apologize to her."

The tears were flowing thick and fast as he hiccupped his way through fearful words, "Miss I'm sorry," Levi wasn't satisfied with this and pushed the man's head back again with more force, "I mean it, I mean it! Please f-forgive me, I would never hurt you and I'm just so so sorry."

Levi found the sight pathetic as the man continued to mumble pleas with eyes shut tight, however, Marisol couldn't help but feel that Levi was taking things to the extreme.

Yes, he had been choking and threatening her mere moments before but hearing him beg for forgiveness, a man pushing fifty with a bloody face and non-stop tears, played at her sense of guilt.

"I-it's alright, really." The words shaky, with an edge of sympathy. The softness juxtaposed Levi's harshness. In that moment Levi met Marisol's eyes, her fear was undeniable, and he hurt inside sensing that it was not only directed at the man below him.

Levi wished he could control his impulses, he wished that he never had this urge to fight to the bitter end in every conflict. He never understood why this would happen, he could never lay a punch and lay off, it was as if he were a puppet on a string whenever he would attack, his sense of autonomy and rationality thrown out the window.

He really did believe that the man deserved every blow he was dealt and could not help but still feel aghast when looking at the man's face, yet the urge to console Marisol was stronger.

"Play time's over, you and your cronies can go rot in a jail cell for all I care." Levi spat as stood up.

At that exact moment, Eld Jinn returned. The scene was enough for Eld to spring into action, beat-up man convulsing on the ground, a small and fearful Marisol in the corner, and Levi's bloody fists. The man did not put up much resistance and Eld was able to carry him to the cart with the rest of the men.

The clacking of Levi's shoes against the stone floor was all that was heard, neither him nor Marisol knowing what to say or do. Levi wished he could rectify the situation but did not know how.

"I guess that's two for two when it comes to rescuing you." Levi's sardonic humour fell flat as the tense atmosphere remained. He cautiously held out a hand to help her up, which she gently took hold of. Her hand was smaller than his and soft to the touch, a detail not to go unnoticed by Levi.

Even through her dishevelled and battered appearance, her beauty shone bright. She was pretty, Levi thought, like a delicate flower but her frown was causing her to wilt. When it came to Marisol, he felt like a teenage boy and cringed at how he let his thoughts run wild. She was much younger than him and worked under him, his feelings were unbecoming, yet he couldn't, and did not want to, stop them. He only snapped back to reality when he felt her tremble in his hold.

"Are you alright?" Levi's question held worry, but Marisol simply nodded in response, still dazed at what went down. Wanting to get her as far away from this environment as possible, he readjusted his hand to secure his hold and walked her up the stairs.

Everyone on the second floor halted their movements, Petra even gasping upon seeing Marisol's brutalised state.

"Oi Petra, go fetch a first-aid kit from the storage room down the hall and Oluo, go fill up a bowl with water and bring a cloth, hurry." Sensing the urgency, both moved quickly to fulfil their tasks.

Levi moved to one of the cleaner bedrooms and sat Marisol on the bottom bunkbed. He grabbed a chair from the corner and took a seat in front of her, eyeing up her injuries. In the light, the damage was clear. Her neck was searing red, bound to bruise in the coming hours. There were bloodstains splotching across her white shirt, but Levi could not pinpoint the origin. Her eyes were bloodshot, and hair tousled, and all that Levi could think was that she did not deserve any of this.

Was this all his fault? Thinking he was doing her a favour by bringing her here to keep an eye on her when instead he launched her into certain danger. He did not know how long his gaze remained fixed on her, but he stilled at the realisation that he had compromised her in this way.

Marisol studied Levi's face, fixated on how his eyebrows bunched in concern while he stared at her neck. After what felt like an eternity, he gently grazed his fingers across her skin as he examined the extent of the chokehold Marisol was in. The touch was light as a feather, yet Marisol flinched regardless.

"Does it hurt?" Levi whispered as he retracted his fingers as if he had been burnt. Honestly, Marisol was unsure of whether she was flinching from the area being tender or the tenderness in Levi's touch. She leaned towards the latter as her face rouged and her body felt dissatisfied without his contact.

Levi was patient through her silence as he waited on her response, not wanting to make her uncomfortable in his touch.

Petra and Oluo slipped in the room during the pregnant pause and managed to slip out before Marisol's voice was heard.

"No, it doesn't hurt…well, maybe just a little but I think this is more worrying." She slowly lifted her arm towards him, the bloody sleeve, thick and heavy.

"Shit," Levi muttered under his breath as he leaned towards the bucket and rag, "May I?" He asked as he motioned to clean the blood. Marisol's reply caught in her throat, so she managed a nod in its stead.

In an uncharacteristically gentle move, he pushed up Marisol's sleeve to her elbow and held her small wrist in his hand, his fingers wrapping around her with room to spare. In a soothing motion, he began to wash the dried blood away from her skin, cleaning the large wound. Levi timed his motions with her hitching breath, slowing down and making his touch lighter when moving over a particularly sensitive area.

Marisol felt inappropriate to think this in the moment, but she could not help but fluster at how sensual this was. Complete silence, Levi focussing all his attention on her arm as if it were his duty (which it was not). It was instinctual, the way tended for her, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

She could not understand him, but she could not care to in this moment, his harsh exterior gave way to something soft, kind, and nurturing underneath.

"This may uh…sting a little." Levi announced as he poured some rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball and lightly rubbed it across the wound. Marisol reflexively pulled her arm away, letting out a small whine through gritted teeth. "It's alright, I've got you." Levi whispered while rubbing his thumb across her wrist, soothingly.

Marisol nodded and let Levi continue working. He was efficient as ever, tightly wrapping the wound with a gauze pad and bandages.

"All better," Levi muttered when he finally dropped her wrist. Marisol's arm felt heavy without his hold. Levi wrung out the cloth before standing from his chair and taking a seat next to Marisol on the edge of the bed. He looked once again to Marisol's neck, leaning closer as he said, "I think there's just a small scratch over here, but I'm sure that will heal in a couple days." He gently took hold of her jaw as he craned her neck to the side, getting a better view to assess the damage.

He was dangerously close, so much so that Marisol could revel in the sensation of each light breath that Levi exhaled. She was sure that he could feel her heating up but if he did, he made no snarky effort to point it out.

His hand remained in place for moments longer than necessary but neither complained. Marisol wished she could take that as an invitation to throw her arms around his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss. Her eyes fell upon his lips, lips that, with their permanent pout, looked soft and plump and oh so kissable.

Reign yourself in, Marisol internally grumbled.

"Thank you." Her thanks broke through the air and Levi's lingering touch recoiled.

Levi turned his head towards the door, the sounds of chatter outside bringing him back to reality. He accepted Marisol's gratitude with a small nod before heaving himself up, off the bed.

"I guess, if you're still a bit shaken up and in pain, you can retire here for the afternoon, we're going to be cleaning this place…tch, these rooms are just as injured as you are with all the filth left behind." He once again looked to the girl as he slightly towered over her seated frame, wide eyes and full lashes blinking up at him.

The question that had been playing on his mind this entire time made his heart sink further as he studied her eyes that brimmed with innocence, "Did that man do anything else? Did he…touch you anywhere, hurt you besides there." Levi pointed between her neck and arm. He dreaded her answer as he watched her eyebrows furrow – was that in confusion or trepidation?

"No! No…no, he didn't assault me…sexually or anything like that, I can't help but think that may have happened if you didn't intervene… if you didn't save me." Levi's shouldered relaxed as he let out the heavy breath, a breath he did not realise he was holding onto.

His heart pounded through his chest and were it not for a steadfast resolve, he would have embraced her and never let go.

He couldn't think like this, not for his sake and certainly not for Marisol's.

"I'm heading out, but you should probably shower or something, you look…you like a sight for sore eyes." And there it was, out of his mouth before his brain had enough sense to stop him, he could not believe how quick he was able to put on that sardonic mask, and he felt terrible for it.

Marisol nodded as if she came to expect just that from the captain, a feigning care that gave way to brick wall between them.

Could he really keep using the excuse that their work relationship made his feelings inappropriate and thus made his harsh words acceptable? The back of his mind said otherwise, the back of his mind told him that his masculinity was more fragile than he cared to admit. Displaying affection had never been his forte, he felt weak and embarrassed in doing so, so he just altogether decided not to.

He could not be blamed though, without a father figure, all that Levi had known was how his uncle would harass any woman he could under the guise of 'flirting' and more than that he had spent his childhood in the dark corner of his mother's room at the brothel, pretending to sleep as he would hear the grunts of men who defiled and berated his mother.

If that was romance, a young Levi wanted no part of it. Of course, as he got older, he had seen the art of seduction first hand, his closest companion, Farlan would often tease him about not being able to woo women. Levi did not care, his childhood had him suppress any and all romantic tendencies.

That was, of course, before meeting Marisol. The feeling was unknown, he felt youthful when he would dote over her, a nervous flutter would run through his stomach at the thought of her. Indecent or innocent, his mind ran wild. Yet, this also manifested in an overwhelming sense of worry for her, it felt natural to protect her… but who was it say she needed protecting? Could she not have gotten herself home safe and sound that evening at the bar? Could she not have worked her way out of that man's grip using her combat skills?

It was these intrusive thoughts that made Levi feel stupid for changing the way he acted around her compared to other scouts, he felt stupid for how much he cared, yet no amount of restraint and masking could change how he truly felt.

He wanted to get out of the room, the walls felt like they were caging him in. Without another word he stepped out and hoped that some cleaning would be therapeutic. He would mop the floors, and his mind, clean.

He was in deep; it was sudden and uncontrollable. He felt it when her eyes fluttered up at him, he felt it when her wrist lay in his hand, and he felt it when he soothed her to sleep all those nights ago. He wanted her, all of her, her brilliance and her beauty, her faults, and her trauma. He had a desire only she could satiate, and he would not hesitate to wait an eternity if it meant he could have but a single taste.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Eeeeeek feelings are coming thick and fast hahahaha. Thank you all for the support, I appreciate it so much! I have been so busy as of late with uni that I have not had much time to write and when I have sat down to create content, I have been hit with the biggest of writing blocks.

However, after finishing this chapter (rushed and definitely in need of a revision, which I shall do for all chapters when I reach chapter 10), I have now come up with some type of plan for the next two chapters.

As much as I have wanted to update this fic every week (and trust me, I will be doing so soon), exams are next week and last exactly 1 month so I have to prioritise that as they are my finals and I would rather wait until I have complete time to dedicate my all (heart, tehe bad joke) and write some epic and cool and sexy and spicy stuff for yall.

Anyway, I'll see all of you again in November and I also hope at that time to publish some other works too, someone shots with some of our favs… I'm thinking about something soooooooo painfully fluffy for all you Armin enjoyers out there.

Alright, enough from me, hope you enjoyed and as always, I love feedback whether you dm it to me or leave a review, I revel in any and all interaction this story gets.

Until next time xoxo